


Just Between You, Me, and the Fence Post

by fencer_x



Series: Fences, and the Sides Thereof [4]
Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Birthday Presents, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: [Sequel 2 toGood Fences, Good Neighbors] It's not every day one turns 28, after all.





	Just Between You, Me, and the Fence Post

The look of shocked confusion that Ritsu received when he asked Masamune what his plans were for the weekend made it seem as if he'd instead suggested they show up to work the next day in matching Hello Kitty and Doraemon costumes. "What?" he laughed nervously at the expression. "No good?"

Masamune's mouth flapped open and shut a few times, and he turned back to his papers, trying to seem unflustered and utterly failing. "No just—why?"

Ritsu furrowed his brows, annoyance starting to flare up, and he flopped down onto the couch next to Masamune, leaning into him partly for attention, partly because it was fun to invade his personal space when he was working. "Cause in case you hadn't noticed—it's Christmas Eve on Saturday? And couples usually spend it together?" He raised his brows and elbowed Masamune lightly, hoping to draw a reaction. "And cause I've already ordered a cake from that patisserie by the station?" How many more excuses was he going to have to give? "…Masamune?"

The guy finally yielded turning his head just enough to be able to catch Ritsu out of the corner of his eye before cracking a small smile with a wry laugh and shaking his head, pulling off his glasses. "I didn't mean…just…"

"Just?"

He slumped back against the couch. "It's kind of my birthday."

"Wha— _today_?" Ritsu practically shrieked, fingers shooting out to grip Masamune's arm.

"Oh— _no_ , geez. The 24th."

"Oh…" Ritsu allowed himself a moment to breathe, then turned an annoyed glare on Masamune. "What the hell—why didn't you say so sooner? That's only a few days away!"

Masamune's brows lifted, and his grin turned sheepish. "Honestly? I forgot…"

"You _forgot_?"

A shrug. "I never celebrate my own birthday; Yokozawa just usually drags me out to an izakaya and pumps me full of booze till I can't even remember how old I'm turning." Ritsu grimaced at this image, and Masamune snorted. "But I might could be talked into changing my plans this year."

Ritsu shifted around and flopped back onto the arm of the couch, stretching out his legs and letting them fall over Masamune's lap, the picture of relaxation. "Mmm, I wonder if I can get them to change it to a birthday cake then…" He wiggled his feet a few times, and Masamune stroked a finger from his knee down his calf and back, drawing goosebumps across the bare flesh in its wake. "So what do you wanna do? For your birthday."

Masamune raised a brow. "'Do'?"

"You don't have anything you want to do?" A small, thin smile stretched Masamune's lips, and Ritsu pulled his legs back to his chest, flushing and turning round to sit properly. " _Besides_ that." _That_ was probably a given anyways, if their relationship thus far were anything to go by.

They…were good together, Ritsu was growing to accept. If you'd tried to convince him even a few months before that he'd be sitting here curled up on the couch in the apartment of one Takano Masamune— _né_ Saga—discussing birthday plans and Christmas Eve arrangements, he would've laughed in your face and then likely run off to be sick somewhere. Even now, it was still a bit of a sore spot to talk about their past, but such hurdles were easily overcome or side-stepped, as it was growing increasingly difficult to remember things like how he'd always gotten tongue-tied around Saga-sempai or how he never felt quite right in his own skin around the guy, constantly reminding himself that there was no way someone as amazing as Saga-sempai could well and truly love Ritsu—not in the way Ritsu loved him back.

But Masamune was a different bird altogether; Masamune stirred him to action, pushed and pressed and urged responses that somehow Ritsu didn't feel all that embarrassed to give at all. They argued (usually without much bite) and made up (or made _out_ rather) and were _normal_ , which was a welcome relief for Ritsu who felt like he'd spent the last decade chained tight to the past, never able to breathe or move on.

Saga-sempai was a visible but fading memory in the light shed by Masamune, and though Ritsu couldn't bring himself to say such embarrassing things, he closed his eyes and daily thanked whoever was listening for this second chance. It was almost worth all the trouble they'd been through before to enjoy the relationship they had now. Sure, ideas like _engagements_ and _family responsibility_ hung like a sword over his head even now, but Masamune would always catch the dark thoughts before they crossed his brow and make a comment about a mangaka that had given him trouble that day or suggest they go out for yakiniku the next night or just bump their shoulders together and give Ritsu a peck on the cheek that set him to flushing in a way not even their bedroom activities could.

Masamune tossed his pen onto the table and flopped down onto his back, letting his head lie cradled in Ritsu's lap, and stared up at the ceiling blankly. "Surprise me."

Hah. Easier said than done.

* * *

In the end, Masamune still wound up stuck at a bar on his birthday with Yokozawa at his side, but in a break with tradition, Ritsu at least was on his _other_ side, and Saeki-san was across the table, half-way to drunk, and had already procured phone numbers from two other patrons without breaking a sweat.

"For your birthday—I'm getting you some _balls_ ," Yokozawa grunted, syllables slurring just a bit. "So that maybe you'll use them next time you argue for a larger print run and not get my ass chewed out because the stock sells out too quickly." He knocked back his drink and slammed the tumbler on the table between them, shooting Ritsu a disapproving glance when he flinched. "Maybe if you spent more time putting in a few extra hours at work a week instead of scurrying home as soon as possible you wouldn't be causing the printers the amount of grief they've been suffering the past few weeks 'cause of your inability to properly predict—"

Masamune shoved him away with an eye roll. "Quit bitching; it's the printers' job to wait on us. They can stand to sweat a little once in a while. Plus you know it's stressful this time of year." Yokozawa's glare didn't soften, but he did turn his attention over Saeki-san's head to wave down an attendant for another drink.

It was kind of an awkward gathering; Yokozawa wasn't exactly being subtle about his unfounded dislike for Ritsu, and while Masamune had no issue with Ritsu sticking close to him the whole night, he doubted it had less to do with a desire for closeness and more to do with unease about Yokozawa himself. Saeki-san was probably having the most fun of the group—but then, she always did.

"As for me—I'm getting you a job interview," Saeki-san announced out of the blue, sipping calmly on a blue, fruity cocktail she'd been bought by one of the aforementioned patrons, and shook a finger in Masamune's face in case he felt inclined to object. "Get you out of that crappy _Emerald_ office and into a proper shoujo manga division like we've got at Onodera Shuppan."

" _Saeki-san…_ " Ritsu started, half-groaning at her gall, but Masamune just chuckled.

"You think I can argue for a higher salary, maybe?"

And here Yokozawa cut in with a hissed, " _Masamune,_ " which he brushed off.

"Hey, I'm allowed to shop around!"

Saeki-san just giggled, loudly sipping on her drink, and propped her head up in one hand with an elbow on the table. "What about Ricchan?"

Ritsu stiffened at his side, sliding his beer bottle between his hands and picking at the peeling label. "Eh?"

"Present," Saeki-san reminded pointedly. "What're you getting the man of the hour here?"

Masamune glanced to the side, genuinely curious, as Ritsu had been relatively quiet all night—though he'd chalked that up more to discomfort around Yokozawa in general and Saeki-san's brash personality just overshadowing him.

"Oh that's—I'm giving mine…later."

Saeki-san leaned forward on both elbows now, practically on top of the table as she narrowed her eyes knowingly and let a smile play at her lips. "Uh huuuuh… I see how it is. A _special present_ that he gets at home huh…"

"Wha— _no_ , geez! No! That's— _no!_ " And if Masamune hadn't already practically been _promised_ sex tonight, he might've been offended. As it was, Ritsu was flushed to his ears, helpless to Saeki-san's teasing and Yokozawa's eyes rolling so hard he was worried they might head right out the door. "I just left it at my apartment is all."

Saeki-san continued needling him earnestly, very obviously enjoying teasing her friend, and Masamune watched contentedly. He'd certainly had worse birthday outings.

* * *

"I didn't realize you'd told Saeki-san about us," Masamune commented idly as they trudged the long walk home, the alcohol warming the both of them against the late winter evening.

Ritsu eyed him strangely, and then twigged to the reference. "Oh—I didn't. Really. I think she just likes teasing me."

"Ah."

He dropped the matter so simply that Ritsu felt compelled to ask, "…Did you tell Yokozawa-san, then?" And Masamune shrugged ambivalently.

"No, but… He's probably figured it out. You kind of disrupted my life." He glanced down and locked eyes with Ritsu. "In a good way."

Ritsu hunkered down into his jacket, burying half his face in the scarf wrapped around his neck, and walked just a bit closer to Masamune, letting their arms brush as they walked. "You're just saying that cause you think it'll get you laid tonight."

"Will it?"

"It's up for debate."

"I hate losing arguments."

"Well, it _is_ your birthday—maybe I can let you win."

"There's no thrill of victory if you _let_ me win, though."

"Then I suggest you put up a good defense." Masamune chuckled roughly, reaching down and lacing their fingers together without giving Ritsu a chance to object. Ritsu frowned. "Someone could see us, idiot."

"It's my birthday." And really, it was a good enough excuse for Ritsu just now.

The rest of the trek was conducted in silence, and only the jingle of keys being pulled from a pocket interrupted the stillness when they exited the elevator. Masamune glanced down, curious, as Ritsu picked out his apartment key from the ring and tugged Masamune behind him towards 1202. "Birthday present," he reminded shortly, opting not to elaborate.

Directing Masamune towards the couch, Ritsu busied himself in the kitchen and joined his guest shortly with two steaming mugs of instant coffee cupped precariously in one hand and an unassuming hastily-wrapped package in the other. He set the mugs on the table before hastily joining Masamune on the couch, pressing the package into his hands with little fanfare. "It was supposed to be a Christmas present so—don't think I'm buying you _two_ presents just cause you happened to be born today."

Masamune smiled softly in the low light, taking the present and treating it with all the care of a jeweled box. "I wouldn't dream of presuming as much."

Ritsu watched, wary, and swallowed thickly as Masamune took his time in peeling back the wrap—so slowly he wondered if the guy wasn't trying to save the paper to use again later. Eventually, though, he'd finally unwrapped enough to tell what it was, and Ritsu couldn't help but nervously press him for a response. "Well?"

"This is…"

"Sensei's first novel—first press even—" He reached forward and flipped open the front cover, pointing out the elegant scrawl in thick black ink _Usami Akihiko_. "And I got him to autograph it, see?" He watched Masamune's eyes for any reaction, at once terrified that it was a horribly gauche gift that made it seem like he was just showing off his connections but also eager for praise of some sort or another. He'd put some _thought_ into this, dammit! "Just—we used to talk about him all the time, remember? And I dunno—you're probably not even a huge fan of him anymore, but I thought you liked his stuff back then and—"

And just like that, he was on his back, and Masamune's lips were crushed against his, almost bruisingly so, with his tongue pressing for entrance and taking it when not granted access soon enough. Ritsu struggled for a moment—more out of surprise than genuine distaste, but quickly gave in and let Masamune enjoy himself, trying to reciprocate but finding it difficult to keep up with his frantic pace.

Masamune tilted his head to the side, pressing a line of kisses from Ritsu's mouth to his ear, where he whispered low and hot, "I fucking _love you_ ," before pressing their foreheads together and pausing to catch his breath. "Seriously seriously…"

Ritsu's face was flushed from the adrenaline as much as the abrupt confession, and his throat seized, unsure of how to respond, so he settled for wrapping his arms around Masamune's neck and pulling him down for a gentler, more languid kiss, sinking into the couch and spreading his legs to give Masamune more rein to lean over him. "Happy birthday?"

Masamune smiled against his lips. "Tell me it's not over yet."

Ritsu pulled back, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I think I can do one better." And he shifted to press a series of kisses under Masamune's jaw, sucking just at the pulse point before he worked his way to his ear. "I love you… _and_ it's not over yet."

And thus passed the first evening of Takano Masamune's 28th year.


End file.
